


Interstate 5

by StydiaFanfics



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Beacon Hills, F/M, Road Trips, non-supernatrual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-13 00:44:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2130636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StydiaFanfics/pseuds/StydiaFanfics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beacon Hills is not bound to the supernatural alternate universe. Fate brings Lydia and Stiles together on a road trip down Interstate 5. Lydia realizes why she was so wrong about his type.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interstate 5

It had begun in an instant. First the clouds moved in, darkening the sky with an awful shade of gray. California was known for its great weather and earthquakes, not it’s storms. So, for citizens of northern California, when the clouds came in around three p.m and took over Beacon Hills with a pale unfamiliar aura, it might as well have been the end of time for them. Lydia blamed global warming, but then again anyone who wasn’t Lydia never liked to pay attention to the scientific reasoning behind things.

The sound of million grains of rice. Maybe, more like needles by this point. A sound Lydia Martin couldn’t tune out because of how hard the rain was coming down. She knew she should have taken off tomorrow but it wasn’t like she had much of a choice anyways. Drizzle or storm, rain or shine, there was no way she could have stayed any longer.

Most, if not all, radio stations crackled with emergency warnings on how it was best to stay indoors until the black asphalt on the roads were no longer slippery with the new seasonal rain. Those who feared to risk their lives because of the hungry shadow above them wouldn’t go away, listened. Lydia, well Lydia took it as an opportunity to escape. The two lane highway had become her savior. By the time people actually had notice her disappearance, she would be far from reach and no where close to be recognized.

She wasn’t speeding even though at one am in the morning most truckers had already pulled aside to sleep and those who actually believed in the chaos of the storm stopped by the resting areas. She had seen one, packed, thirty miles ago and had thought about stopping there, but the rain hadn't been as strong and it wasn’t like she was tired. Sometimes pulling all nighters didn’t hit her until the sun had been at its peak the next day.

Rain fell so hard in places that she had to sometimes slow down at five miles per hour and would have to hold the wheel with white knuckles, her face masked by concentration. Her tires haven’t been replaced in the last five months, she didn’t want to die just because she was in a rush to get to wherever this highway was taking her. At times it was difficult to see the road. Her lights beams were on high and even though the nearest car seemed to be miles away, she knew that just like her, someone may not spot her in time. So having the seat belt strapped firmly over her shoulders and obeying the California law, she made sure to follow whatever dotted yellow lines she could see.

After forty miles, a blurred green sign informed her of a rest stop up ahead. A gut feeling told her to rest. Stop and sleep for a couple hours in the comfort of her car and wait for the storm to pass or weaken, or as unpredictable the california weather seemed to be now a days, completely go away.

Lydia ends up pulling into the rest stop. Mostly all spaces were taken by minivans and truckers. The insides of the vehicles dark. She felt as if she were invading a territory where she wasn't welcome by illuminating strangers in their sleep and probably waking them up because of her light beams. She would have also turned them off if it weren’t for hard rain but then again was positive that if it wasn’t her headlights that had woken someone up, it had to be the sound of metal against glass.

As quickly as she could, Lydia pulled up to a space that was quite far from the restrooms and the vending machines. Escaping earlier involved so many rushed thinking and adrenalin, she was positive her purse only consisted of a half empty water bottle and a granola bar that had been there since last week. She thought of running towards the vending machines and getting whatever she could now so she could rest and wake up without having to get out. Might as well also stop in the restroom since she had the chance. It seemed like the most bizarre idea of going now instead of waiting, but Lydia found herself jogging towards the small building with the machine.

By the time she had entered the yellow-lit acidic restroom, she found the front of her hair stuck on her face and her brown boots covered in dried grass. Lydia sighed. Besides having no mirror, the place also had no paper towels to dry her cold hands and wipe her boots off. She ends up using the limited amount of toilet paper instead.

Minutes went by. Lydia hadn't moved. 

The flow of the heavy rain had increased while she had went inside the place. She knew that she wouldn’t get soaked if she stepped outside because here was about two to three feet of roof that sticked out around the whole building. She decided to get whatever snacks there were, though she knew not to expect brand named nacks as an option, while the rain died down.

She’d made sure not to step on leaves because she didn’t want to drag in anything else in her car. She could feel tension in her neck at the thought that there might be a possibility that there wasn’t any snacks left and she had gone through this for nothing. Right now Lydia could have been resting, warm and dry, all in the comfort of her car. But what was done was done and Lydia knew that she had seen the ending machine around the corner of the building.

Hugging herself to keep warm once she stepped in front of the machine, Lydia jumps back, startled. A boy, who was way beyond the stage of being soaked and looked around her age, had his face in his knees. He might have been cold, but if he was he was really good at not showing it because there was no sign of shivering. His hand were a white pale blue tough and his nose a bit red, Lydia didn’t know what to say when his brown eyes met hers at the sound of her gasp.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” He said, and she could see the way his hair dripped with water that made its way to the curve of his nose and down to his chin. His eyelashes may have stucked together at one point because he had to blink a couple times before he actually looked at Lydia correctly.

Lydia looked at him curiously. “Excuse me?”

“I said that I didn’t mean to scare you.” He nodded towards the vending machine, “You probably don’t see many people sitting by a vending machine while there's a thunderstorm at one in the morning.”

Lydia glanced at the floor, noded with tight lips, then turned and began to leave. Despite the curiosity within her wanting to ask the young man how he ended up there because she was sure there was a good story behind it, she knew better than that. Walking away was the smart thing to do. She felt bad though, for leaving him there like that, but Lydia knew she couldn’t offer him anything other than an apology. But then again, anyone who knew Lydia Martin also knew that apologies were ancient in her vocabulary.

In the car, she could see the outline of his legs pushing up. Since she didn’t wait for the rain to go down when she walked away, her seat was a bit soaked now. She had taken off her cardigan and put the heater on high for a few seconds before she retrieved the seat back and laid her her down to rest.

And so it went. Ten minutes later there was no hope for her mind to drift away in sleep. Lydia knew she wasn’t one to be awarded for best skill in humanity, but her chest felt strange knowing that he was still out there. Maybe even getting sick. Pushing the seat back up, through the blurred her vision because of the water running in her windshield, she saw his movement as he hugged himself even tighter. A movement that caused her to shake her head, grab her wet cardigan in the back, and open the door.

At first nothing made sense. Usually she wouldn’t have cared if Prada, her dog, was left out in a night like this. She wouldn’t have done the same for any other person, but then again that was Beacon Hills. A place where she despised everyone.

With a rush, she made it under the roof's edge and he was there like he had imagined him to be. Hugging onto his legs, pulling on the sleeves of his purple sweater. He was biting his lips, but not shivering. Holding it in. Or maybe, his body had already skipped the whole shivering part because it had went in shock so it could protect his internal organs and going into hyperthermia. Either or, he turns. Lydia blinked… he was paler since she last saw him. His skin almost paper thin and the blue under his eyes made a chill run along her spine.

“Ah… you’re back.” He forced a smile. She didn’t know how he could find humor in any of this.

She looked back at her car, wondering if it was right or wrong but she knew he had to get warm and it had to be fast. Lydia did her best to concentrate, to make her words as clear as possible so she wouldn’t waste her time or regret the whole thing.

“You need to get dried, now.”

She expected him to accept immediately, but instead he seemed to need extra time to translate the expression on his face into proper words.

“Lady, I think that was the first thing I should have done by now.”

It was then- while looking in his eyes and imagining his story- that the first jolt of familiarity with this stranger shot through her. Like a wave, it started crashing and she felt like sinking down and pulling him up herself. How the hell did he end up like this? 

Lightning flashed, and Lydia jumps a bit at the sound. Thunder followed almost immediately. California rarely had lightning, it wasn’t like she’d even got used to it in Beacon Hills. So when the rain continued pouring, she knew that whoever this brown eyed mystery boy with the small moles was, she was going to get him to get up one way or the other.

“ I need you to get up and come with me, now.” The words came out hesitant, strictly telling him that this was no joke. “Or you’ll die.”

He blinks. “I don’t know-”

“Dude! Do you really want to die?” In the sudden downpour, she was in need to get back in the warmth of her car. They could have been in there by now if he wasn’t trying to resist.

Holding tightly on the ends of his sweater, he finally accepts. “Fine, but don’t take me out to some field and murder me. I rather have people find my body within the hour I happen to die. Not a week later when the farmer decides to check on his crops.”

In disbelief, she bent down and offered him her hands. Her eyes scanned his for a second, then back at the white and green effect of his fingertips. Blood rushed to her cheeks, bringing an unfamiliar and unwanted emotion for the current situation. Lydia shouldn’t be thinking about how attractive she had found the boy to be. No, especially not when he finally did stood and his height towered a bit over her petite frame.

Lydia struggled to open her car, but after immediately closing the doors, only their breathing could be heard amongst them. She turned on the heater immediately, ignoring the fact that there was a complete stranger by her side and the fact that this could be the most idiotic thing she could have done since she didn’t even know his name. The boy took an involuntary movement forward to remove his sweater as Lydia forced her eyes to focus somewhere else.

“I have a blanket in the back.”

“Lady…” He was suddenly so agitated.

She cuts him off by turning and grabbing the blanket under her backpack that she had filled with whatever clothing items she got first. She tossed it towards him, her eyes boarding directly into his with annoyance.

“If I were you I would shut up and get myself warm as fast as I could. And stop calling me Lady. It makes me sound old. And, I also recommend taking off the shirt and pants as well if you are planning on keeping your fingers and toes.”

Lydia turns away. She takes off her top layer as well and keeps the rest on for obvious reasons. The heater was starting to condense the glass so she turns it down a level. She heard him shuffling with his clothes right after. As awkward and uncomfortable he might feel being practically naked and wrapped in her wool blanket, she was saving his life. Clearly she had no idea why she felt like unleashing her side in humanity, but she did and there was no turning back now.

She could feel her feet aching with the wet of the boots. It had been fifteen minutes since they had gotten inside and he had yet to say a word besides calling her “lady” again. Concentrating on the time and hoping that his clothing dried up in the back seat, her mind kept lingering to want to look at him. See what he was up to. What the color of his face actually was instead of that paper thin sickly one he had.

The storm wasn’t at full fury anymore. The rain was now coming down in slow smooth thin layers. A calm melody soft enough for her to hear his slow breathing as he ended up falling asleep without her noticing. It was difficult to not look, and when she did a warmth struck her chest.

Leaning back on her seat, it made no sense to her. Instead of feeling cold and dizzy because of the lack of sleep she was getting, with no warning at all, Lydia felt as if she could stare at him, like this, for a long time. He hugged the blanket, tightly. With the dim lighting that came from outside, his skin looked almost silver. She could see a light outline of his collarbones as he leaned his head on the door to his right, resting it. She wondered what was his story, if he would even tell when he woke. Unable to focus on certain features of him for more than a few seconds at a time, her balance is off even as she sat. The dark of his hair that was plastered on his forehead, the curve of his neck…

Lydia looks away.

Never, ever was Lydia Martin the one to stare. It had always been the other way around. She was the one to get stared at. That was her custom. In high school it was dating the star captains, the next it boy of the school. Recently it was sleeping around with those who were in her league, not committing herself with anything or anyone that had to do with Beacon Hills in the long run. Short and easy enough for her to escape and not be missed.

But he, this guy… Lydia knew that he wasn’t one for designer clothing besides Nike and Adidas. She could tell that by his hoodie and sneakers and plain white T, that he was one who went for the simple, easy way out. A person who had his own ways to go on about life.

When he woke, it was already four a.m and the rain had died down completely. Not one minute had passed when she didn’t have her eyes open. Staring at the way the drops of rain water repeat its continuous ongoing movement. Land and slide, land and slide. She should have gone crazy by then, trying her best to stay composed and let him sleep. Which did happen.

His eyes traveled from the night sky to her, having trouble focusing on his surroundings. When he doesn’t seem to grasp everything thats going on, he glanced at Lydia and then recognizes the blanket and his nakedness. Obviously uncomfortable, he tightened the grip on the blanket.

“Hey…” He winced, an awkward tension between the both. “ Have you… been up the whole time?”

Lydia stares out. Some of the truckers were beginning to make their way out.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she said.

She heard him shift in the seat.

“They’re still damp,” she bit her lip, then took a deep breath and turns to him. “ And I need to leave soon. Since you are obviously alone and without a car… i’m pretty sure you are coming with?”

His eyes look away from the back to her. His face, dried from the heater and the hours, was the color of table linen. Either something bothered him or he was scared or lost. She couldn’t read his face. It looked like he wanted to say something but was unable to do so.

She should have questioned him already. Why hadn't she questioned him earlier? Like his name, his age, what the hell he was doing out there like that…

Her throat constricted without warning.

“What’s your name?”

Everything seemed to wash over her at once: excitement, fear, anxiety, concern…

He might have been expecting a different question from her because when she said it, he smiled. “Stiles.”

She stared at him quizzically, not understanding.

“Stiles… as in Stanley?”

He shook his head and he laughed a bit. It was small and after what seemed like an impossibly long time, he speaks, actually meeting her eyes,

“No,” he shook his head and smiled. It became hard for her to meet his eyes. “It’s short for my last name. Stilinski.”

“So, whats your first name.”

With that, Stiles put his hand on her semi bare shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, the smile hadn’t washed off. “For now lets go with Stiles.”

Neither of them said anything for a few seconds. She turned away from him, making sure he understood what she was doing as she looked at the warming sky. More truckers were beginning to leave. Their roaring engines were as if they were simply shouting for her to do good and leave as well. A sign that it was time.

She take his hand away but doesn’t remove her gaze from his when she does. Reading him. He was also looking at the trucks when she was. His face holding a mystery she had the lingering desire to solve.

“ Where are you headed to, Stiles?”

Here, on the outskirts of Interstate 5, Lydia was hours away from the hell she once considered a home and now she was inviting someone for a trip she didn’t know where it was going to end. In her head, hopefully it never did. But as the sun began to rose and the cloudy sky was clear enough for her to take on the highway as if it were no longer a deadly combination for her car and the asphalt, she places a hand on the ignition.

His eyes trailed down to her hand.

“Honestly?”

“No. Surprise me.”

“Well,” He said, “I was thinking on L.A.”

Lydia turned on the engine, “You're in luck. Let’s do it.”

 

\---

 

 

Two hours into Interstate 5, the sun had already casted a yellow glow on the fields despite the lingering patchy dark clouds while Stiles had chosen the radio station for this so roadtrip. He had placed his shirt on already since it was the one closest to actually drying from the three clothing items he had with him. Lightheaded and far more alert than what she expected herself to be, Lydia was able to ask him far more questions than what she initially intended to. Even the ones that may have been a bit too personal for her liking if she were the one to be asked.

She learned that he was an only child and his father was the Sheriff of his small town. His mother had died when he was nine and since then it’s been a struggle to find a balance between his panic attacks and his life at home. He made it through high school by spending time as a librarian’s assistant. After graduation he decided to attend his local community college to get into law enforcement like his father but one thing led to the other and he ended up dropping it. He didn’t tell Lydia exactly why, but he did mention that he was tired of the same routine back home. A reminder for Lydia that they were quite similar in that aspect. He didn’t say anything on how he ended up in the middle of no where and when exactly he left, but Lydia was practically shocked at how much information he had already given her.

They were planning on stopping at a gas station a couple miles ahead for a small breakfast and coffee. Lydia liked the fact that he was actually answering with honesty.

“So do you usually open up to complete strangers like that?” She asked, glancing at him.

“A little. You got the hot ticket today though. Usually I stop at my father is a sheriff part.”

Lydia adjusted herself on the seat. She really needed a break. “Hot ticket. Wow. Well, i’m glad you trust this complete stranger who saved your ass from losing limbs. And for the record, has yet to tell you her name.”

Stiles nodded for whatever reason as if she were asking a question.

“Oh, I know your name.” He said.

She glanced over at him again. He was leaning back on the seat and staring at the road ahead. His eyelashes were distracting her from what he had just said. Something that should have made her eyes widen with shock or wince because of the stupidity.

Lydia’s brow furrowed as she thought about what he just told her. She was positive he was going to come out with a joke.

“Oh really?”

He nodded.

“Then, what is it?” She asked.

He doesn’t sit up. He simply placed both of his hands behind his head and closed his eyes and sighed. 

“Stanley.”

Unlike other times where people liked to mess with her, Lydia’s first instinct wasn’t a bitter response. She actually looked back at him and stared at the smile plastered on his face, obviously enjoying whatever he is making Lydia go through. Stiles laughed under his breath and opened one eye towards her.

“Stanley is such a nice name, you know?”

It took Lydia a moment for her to react. “I should leave you here in the middle of fucken no where for that.”

Stiles laughed aloud. “Okay, okay. Stanley. So, what’s your real name?”

Lydia shook her head and focused back on the road. She had many reasons why piled up in one when annoyance should have been the only one on the list. But nerves and warmth and thrill was part of hat list as well.

Her hands grip tightly on the wheel before she sighed, really reconsidering her ability to withstand those brown eyes and wide smile of his. She had become aware that maybe he was Lydia Martin’s developing weakness. 

“It's Lydia. Not Stanley, okay?” She said.

Stiles didn’t respond. Lydia thought maybe he had gone lost in thought or simply disappointed in her name because she wasn’t keeping it as a mystery as him. But, then again if she hadn’t revealed her actual name to him, she would have gone by Stanley the entire ride.

Stiles sat up and she doesn’t turn to look at him though her eyes strain to do so.

“Lydia,” he breathed, though it sounded more like a question. A trial run to see how her name would roll with his tongue. Apparently it was a big mistake because when he did say it, she immediately turned which caused her to sway a little to the right side of the right lane of the road. Thankfully no cars were as near. 

“Lydia. Yeah. Let’s forget about Stanley. Lydia is nice. We’re going to keep it!”

 

\---

 

Right before they headed up Grapevine Canyon, it was seven a.m and Lydia swore that if it wasn’t her eyes, it was going to be her stomach giving up on them.

Her last meal consisted of a deli sandwich -which was not the best thing in her opinion-and an apple. She had been used to not eating with her mother at home because usually it was always found empty and cold and something always seemed to drag her as far as she could possibly be from it. Buying her food in the local shops in Beacon Hills was her only remedy and right now suddenly everything seemed to be focused on a good coffee.

With the early morning sunlight slanting through Stiles’ window, Lydia took a moment to simply notice that she had been wrong about his paper like skin and awful under eye bags. He had the same dark, wavy hair and chestnut brown eyes, she had imagined him to have when the sun had finally let her see him correctly. Like Lydia suspected, he was surprisingly really attractive- a few miniature moles here and there around his chin and cheeks, one right by the side of the right side of his lips, but otherwise everything else seemed like smooth skin she would have like to feel with her fingertips. All in all, he wasn’t the typical jock with the smouldering eyes and the tight jaw line and the built shoulders, but he didn’t look too bad. In fact, he looked pretty good and she was definitely digging his runaway- everyday- hipstery- schoolboy look he had going on.

That was a first.

He caught her looking, though she didn't look away fast enough.

Stiles cocked his head to one side. “What?”

Lydia finally snapped to attention and focused her eyes back on the road, merging into the exit to the gas station. Even after spending less than twelve hours with him, Lydia felt as if she had known him for more than a year. Someone who was called a friend in her opinion. A person of comfort, trust, and most of all, stability. She would have preferred to come up with a lie and parked right away, but all she came up with was, “I’m going to get some coffee.”

Lydia watched as he was the first to unbuckle his seat belt, getting out before her. Despite the fact that he still had the blanket around his hips, he knelt forward.

“Powdered or glazed?”

“What?”

“Powdered or glazed.” He repeated. “The mini doughnuts for the coffee.”

Lydia doesn’t think too long, “Powdered.”

While Stiles walked inside the shop simply not minding the fact that he had a blanket as a clothing item, she took a moment to refuel the car before hitting the road again. By this time her mother must of probably noticed that she didn’t spend the night in the house. It wouldn’t be long before the Sheriff ordered to look for her. Too bad she didn’t leave much of a trace or clue where she was heading to in the first place. It wasn’t like she had a map laying around. She didn’t even know why she had said yes to Los Angeles.

For a moment she stood by the pump even after it clicked done. She was sort of wonder that maybe her decisions were made because of him. As crazy as it sounded, she had found many similarities with him. Both seemed stubborn and as it looked liked, the both want to get their own way without knowing much about what way exactly.

But then again, if Stiles had decided to tell her to stop and leave him anywhere on the road, she would have to understand that both of them were heading somewhere and wherever it was, their initial plans they didn’t involve either of them.

“Well, I didn’t know if you’d like cream or not. So I just put some because people who drink bitter coffee are dangerously scary.” He said, then his eyes followed hers to the cups in his hands, “ … you’re not dangerously scary are you?”

Lydia laughed. “I think it’s better if you don’t find out.”

Stiles shrugged. With some people, she wouldn’t have to say a thing for them to notice her quiet behavior and hazy personality. People tend to be intimidated by Lydia Martin. She was the scary it girl who didn’t show mercy despite her problems. Those who knew better usually stayed out of her way. She thought Stiles may have seen her inner sas already, but then again he was different and probably didn’t see the evil within anyways.

She pulled away from the pump and stationed somewhere where she could pull out and head down the highway immediately without delay once they were done with breakfast. They sat on the hood, looking at the cars pass at sixty miles per hour.

“Lydia?” He asked.

She answered automatically, without really thinking. “Yes?”

Stiles held out his hand and Lydia took it. She could feel the cold of his palm and fingertips on hers.

“Stiles Stilinski,” he said as he shook. “Thank you for taking this kind man last night.”

For a moment neither of them spoke. Lydia glanced at the way both of their hands had came together. He was properly introducing himself to her. Like it should have been in the first place.

Lydia cleared her throat, playing along. “Lydia Martin,” she said. “Suprisingly kind enough to save your ass from freezing to death.”

Stiles shrugged and took a bite of the powdered mini doughnut in his free hand. Some of the powder was left behind on the corners of his lips. It was something Lydia had found cute and silly at the same time. She chose to not let him know.

Lydia ran her hand through her disheveled ponytail. “Thank god you aren’t some freak though.” She said, looking away from him back to the highway. “It was quite a risk to take you into my car.”

“And getting me to get naked that fast! Whoo, that's not risky at all it.” He commented.

Lydia nodded. “Yes. And getting you naked.”

There was an awkward pause before Stiles spoke again.

“So I take it you’re headed down south too? I mean you wouldn’t have agreed to take me there if you weren’t.” Small talk, nothing talk, Stiles knew she was escaping just like him from wherever they were from even though she hadn’t explained to him nothing at all. He was the one who revealed most of his story already.

Lydia’s expression softened. Her hands gripped on the warm cup in her hands. “ Honestly, I really didn’t know where I was actually heading to. I mean the storm should have stopped me in the first place.”

She shook her head and took a sip from the cup. Hot and soothing on her blistering lips.

“Good. I mean… I’m glad it didn’t stop you.”

There was something in the quiet way he spoke that made Lydia take a closer look at him when she turned to meet his face again. Though obviously he wasn’t the most handsome boy she’d seem come across her, there was something about him that wanted her to stay and learn and be near him. A gentleness, perhaps, mainly in the unthreatening perceptiveness of his steady and warm gaze. Glancing at his lips, she noticed that the white sugar was still there, asking her to lick it off. 

At that, she quickly turned away, wondering where the thought had come from and what had gotten into her. It’s not like it mattered anyway. It wasn’t like she was going to leap in front of this complete stranger and kiss him then and there.

Before she caught him staring back at her though, Lydia shook her head and took another quick sip. This time letting the hot fluid burn her insides. Wash whatever thought and bizarre fantasies she was coming up with in the moment.

“I feel like telling you why I chose to leave, but then again I barely know you.” She said hesitant.

“Well it’s up to you. I told you part of my story.”

“But not all. You haven’t told me how exactly you ended up all alone like back there and why you left. So, I guess we can say we are even.”

Stiles smiled wryly, “ Ah… the mysterious one aren’t you.”

His eyebrows danced up and down, and despite herself Lydia laughed. Lydia was twenty going onto twenty one but acted as if she were still a teenager. Her strawberry blond hair, quick with threat, loyal to herself, and never seemed to hold a grudge on things for long because in the end everything was useless in her opinion and not worth her investment. She didn’t want to waste time in useless things. Which is why she dropped out of her community college last semester. It didn’t matter that others thought her actions were risking her future, obviously she wasn’t the only one since Stiles seemed to be in a similar position. It isn’t easy following societies expectations. They were proof.

Stiles leaned back on his elbows. “What color is exactly your hair? One second I see a light shade of brown. Then it’s dark blonde if not an orange tone. What do you call your shade of color?”

Though it was said in all innocence, Lydia gave him the once-over, eyeing him carefully then leaned back as well.

“Strawberry blonde,” She said, not hiding her curiosity in his curiosity.

His eyes danced from the shape of her beaten curls to the little hair that stood out in her scalp. She felt her cheeks warming up because she hadn’t looked at her appearance since the rain. Water and non-heat styling were not a good combination for her. She hoped that the innocence in his brown eyes were because she still looked presentable, but then again his shaggy fringe was probably settled into a small quiff whenever he had the chance to get his hands on gel or hair wax.

“I suppose you get many compliments on it,” he said, smiling. “It’s like a rare beauty. Not many people get to have strawberry blonde hair that messes with my vision.”

Lydia laughed. “Idiot. Don't you feel special.”

He giggled. “Hey that’s not nice.”

“I told you,” she said. “It’s best if you don’t know the real me.”

Shocked, he leans closer. A finger grabbing a hold of one small strand of frizzy curls. His thumb feeling the texture. She doesn't move away though her chest felt tense at the thought of him being so near. She should have shoved him away, given him a look that could make him run away in that instant, but instead her eyes followed the movement of his fingers.

His eyes didn’t move away from looking at the hair in his hand, “And to think that any idiot can become so fascinated by the strawberry blonde hair of the complete green eyed stranger who constantly attempts to play the bad guy. Yes,” he said, eyes looking up and consuming Lydia’s free will in a second. “What a complete idiot he is.”

She looked up at him.

She almost kissed him then, but Stiles Stilinski beat her to it.

 

\---

 

Without a word, he slipped one arm around her back, pulling her closer to him as she accepted his kiss and returned it back. With an endearing smile, he took her hand and held tightly. It took a moment for Lydia to process what was happening. How the touch of his hand and the feel of his warm body pressing against hers out in the open, feeling it all: the fullness of the morning, the silent weight of their passion.

She pushed him away, sitting up.

“Why did you do that?” she demanded, beginning to jump away from the hood. “You weren’t suppose to do that.”

Stiles raised and eyebrow before jumping off as well. A car passed. “I don’t know how to read you right now. In my opinion it seemed like you wanted to kiss me too.”

“I did,” she admitted, “since I first saw you actually. I mean, it’s not like I usually go around wanting to kiss complete strangers who I happen to get in my car. If I do kiss a complete stranger they happen to be jerks at some party who are no good other than a distraction. Obviously I don’t see them again afterwards. But you… well you are still wearing my blanket around your hips and we are out here sitting on top of my car by an interstate having coffee and powdered doughnuts with no idea who we really are. I don’t know who you are.”

She stopped, a pensive look on her face.

“Would you like to know?” He asked gently.

Lydia shook her head and looked out at the highway. She was far. She had gotten away and now she might bring someone in again. “No.”

“Why not?”

She hesitated before taking a deep breath. “Because,” she said. “It hurts to let someone who finally understands you, in. They might end up leaving you alone.”

“Is that what happened to you? Did someone you once trust hurt you?”

“No,” she answered. “She was my bestfriend and she died.”

Stiles could only stare at her, humbled by the emotion of her words. She knew she was being honest, being vulnerable, and so incredibly weak…

Lydia hadn’t talked to anyone about Allison’s death to anyone else and here she was, telling a stranger that she couldn’t let them become anything because as soon as something develops into everything, it was bound to become nothing. But, as Stiles didn't say a word, she looked at him squarely, her eye, lit with mystery and compassion, and it was in that moment that Lydia Martin knew that Stiles Stilinski was there to stay.

All the months of wondering what exactly it meant to have no one, all the months of loneliness, had led to this, this here and now.

He reached out and took her hand, feeling the softness of his skin as well a tenderness that rose from within. As he touched her cheek, Lydia closed her eyes, willing to let her first tears since her friends death, shed. She knew the meaning of Stiles’ touch. The words he left unspoken. It wasn’t because both strangers had come to trust each other so well in such a short amount of time. She knew because she’d had let him hug her and hold her close.

He understood whatever pain she held in.

She thought that maybe he was hurting somewhere too and maybe that’s why he knew what to do. But then, wherever this was going, she was sure that he had to be part of it. No doubt about it.

“I’m sorry I kissed you,” he said. “I won’t do it again.”

 

\---

 

He had offered to take the car while she took a break. Willingly she accepted without knowing if he was a good driver or not. She didn't even check if he was licensed, but sleep was a must and her eyes only wanted to rest.

They were about two and a half hours away from Los Angeles when they took off from the gas station. Interstate 5 looked more like the average california freeway by the time she woke. The four to six lanes and the homes by the barricade of graffiti walls. She had to admit that the two lane highway with truckers and minivans and the vast fields of green and yellow was what she liked to see. It would feel more like a roadtrip to her. Something she and Allison liked to do during seasonal breaks. Go on deserted roads the led to places that were far from home.

When she woke, Lydia found Stiles with his jeans on and humming to an old r&b rap love song that was currently on the radio. The sun was hitting his left arm and his hair was still in a floppy mess on his forehead. He hadn’t notice she had awoken and probably looking like a total freak by lurking and clearly invading his privacy.

She took a moment to look around and it was obvious that they were getting closer to wherever they were exactly heading to. The city of L.A was pretty big and very much populated with tourist and attractions. Who knew, maybe they might stop right at the first exit. Look at each other and part their ways. Or, look at each other and plan a new route.

Frowning, Lydia turned away from him to look at the passing cars.

“Your snores are quite cute,” he said.

She turned immediately to look back at him. He had a wary crooked smile, not gazing away from the road. She in the other hand, looked momentarily embarrassed, her eyes flashing down to her hands. She realized that she should have brought her favorite nail polish as well.

“And you would know what cute snores are… how?” she mumbled. Mentally strangling him in her mind.

He glanced towards her, his cheeky smile still intact. “I think I just found out today,” he said conspiratorially.

“Stop,” she said, meaning it. “It bugs me that I don’t know what's going on when I sleep. Like, you might be pulling a prank on me or talking smack while I am so defenseless.”

Stiles laughed and nodded. “Okay, well, first of all I wouldn’t talk smack about you. And second of all, I think it’s pretty hard not to look at you while you sleep. Theres so much about the way your face looks. So calm and soft. It’s like sleeping is a must in your life.”

She looked at him questioningly.

“You were looking at me while I slept?”

Stiles Smiled. “ Don’t act like you didn’t happen to stare at this face when I took a nap of my own.”

 

\---

 

An hour later Lydia noticed that he to a right on interstate 405.

She eyed him carefully.“Stiles?”

He mentioned out towards the windshield, pointing at it. He had a look of excitement and Lydia considered it that he had a plan in his mind. They boy looked harmless, so maybe she didn’t have to worry where exactly he was taking her to. But then again, looks can be deceiving.

He reached for his phone in his jean pocket. It had gotten wet and initially it wasn’t turning on. Hopefully because it was drained of battery life not because of water damage. After sighing and placing the dead phone back in his pocket, he straightened his posture and looked back out on the road.

He rubbed his hands together, using his wrists to stabilize the wheel.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

“Oh yeah. Everything is totally fine. My friend Scott has been living out here for quite some time. I was thinking to staying with him so you don’t have to deal with me any longer,” he said then turned to her. “Hope you don’t mind that i’m driving all the way there.”

Lydia shook her head, though she was surprised when her voice came out in a whisper. “No, go ahead. I don’t mind.” Then said, “Can we um, stop somewhere. I need to use the restroom.”

Stiles didn’t seem to be surprised by the sound of her voice. “Yeah. There are gasoline stations in every exit. I’ll stop in the next one.”

“Thanks,” she whispered.

 

\---

 

When Lydia rushed into the single stall restroom, her reflection practically made her jump back. No, scratch that, she did jump back. Analysis, debate, dissection… any of those things would have shown the same results. She was such a mess.

Practically a stranger.

The dark under eye circles and her uncurled lashes gave off an unwelcoming appearance. She didn’t even want to think of what her hair had caught with the rain and wind and the seat she had been resting her head on. Her clothing smelled of wet dog, and to top it all off, she had kissed Stiles for a slight second and she was sure that her mouth had given off a foul acidic taste by then.

But then, there was the gut feeling within her. Of anger, anxiety, and worry. Lydia didn’t want to admit that she had expected Stiles to want to backpack the state together until they both had figured things out even though they both hadn’t fully explained their problems in detail. She had to get herself together and go back out there but first she obviously had to wash her face with the coldest water and get a pack of gum on her way out.

There was a slight knock on the door. She had been staring at her reflection for more than ten minutes.

“Hey, Lyds are you okay in there?” He said.

Lydia ran a hand through her hair, she wasn’t expecting him to call her that. Lyds didn’t mean Lydia. Lyds meant familiarity and comfort and most of all only those who were close were allowed to call her that. Which was currently no one. And what was worse was that she wanted to let him call her that.

“Ju-just a minute!”

He doesn’t reply immediately. “Okay, i’ll be out here if you need anything… staring at junk food.”

When Lydia managed to open the door, Stiles had actually been looking at the various bags of chips on the shelf before he turned. His eyes darted in Lydia’s direction. She caught him eyeing her, but she didn’t comment on it. Instead she said, “Sorry. Had to wash my face.”

Stiles simply nodded.

She had gotten her pack of gum and various types of granola bars that she could get. He had gotten an iced coffee and a chocolate chip muffin which was wrapped in a clear thin plastic. Waiting in line he had glanced at her choice of items in her hands and smirk.

Lydia rolled her eyes. "What now?”

His brow rose. “Mint gum,” he teased.

She sighed, “Yeah, so what’s the problem with mint gum?”

Stiles held up his hands, “Hey, I never said there was a problem with mint gum. I mean, is there?”

Looking over her shoulder, she saw that a woman with a large band shirt was staring at them. Lydia was beginning to think that maybe they both looked like a college couple with a cheap budget and have no idea what they are both getting themselves into.

She sighed, catching Stiles yet again looking at the gum. She realized what exactly he was thinking then. His face couldn’t be read any better.

“No, I'm not planning on kissing you if that's what you think."

"Never said you did."

"But you are staring at the gum again."

"Can't a boy just look at a pack of gum?"

Lydia winces up at him. "Are you for real right now? You have a face that reads ' I'm going to get some' just by that stare you have going on."

Stiles laughed. "Obviously I am," he said, shrugging. Lydia gave him her signature death glare. "I like peppermint flavored gum and I am going to get a piece from that packet one way or another."

The cashier called them up before she could fight back. Stiles insisted on paying their items, and pretending to not know any better, she let him. Back in the car he took the wheel again.

“I’m guessing you had a car of your own?” She questioned him.

“You stand corrected,” he replied, opening his iced coffee. He shrugged, a sly grin on his face, “Complicated story. Lets just say that my Jeep is in no condition to be driven by me anymore.”

After eyeing her reflection on the rearview mirror, she turned to face him.

Lydia extends her arm forward. “I’m going to need proof that you won’t kill me. License please.”

His eyes widen and short after he laughed as he reached for his jean pocket.

“I swear,” he said. “ You are one interesting chick, Lydia Martin.”

With her eyes wide, she felt a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Stiles placed the card right on her palms. This was a joke and also time to stall before they had to head on out.

He took another sip of his drink. “Not the best picture out there, but the Stilinski’s do have their photogenic side.”

To Lydia’s surprise, Stiles was right. It wasn’t the best picture but sure as hell it wasn’t the worst. He had a smile along with the dimples and his hair was shorter than what it was at the moment. He looked like a person from a bookstore with his friendly cheeky smile and warm bright eyes that yelled friendliness.

Lydia began to scan the rest of the card.

“Stilinski… ” she paused at the sight of his first name. “Wow. You were right. You are not even close to being a Stanley.”

He shrugged and rose his eyebrows. “I wasn’t kidding.”

She sat up and realised that he was her age. Five eleven in height with one hundred and forty seven pounds in weight. His hair color was actually brown along with his eyes. Everything seemed to amuse her more. Getting so much information all through a little card and she didn’t have to ask him about it.

Then, Lydia saw what awaited her. She was speechless at the sight.

“Beacon Hills?” she asked. It was more of an exhale than a question. She meant it as a question.

“Yeah. Good ol’ Beacon Hills California,” he replied, a touch of sarcasm in his voice, seeing that he was obviously not fond of it. “A place i’m definitely not going back to in a long time.”

Lydia handed him his card and put her hands around on the back of her neck, becoming anxious. This was becoming too much to handle. Her chest actually hurt by this point.

“Lydia… are you okay?”

“I have no idea…” she said, beginning to take calm breaths. “What I meant to say- well actually ask you is… did you live there your whole life?”

Stiles shook his head, obviously confused by her sudden change in reaction. “Lydia, what’s going on?”

She began placing everything she knew about him together. His mother dying. His age. The sheriff's son… a Jeep. His familiar bookstore face at the library. She had seen him before. She had heard the small town’s story about the sheriff's son disappearing a year after graduation. She was just to unamused to pay attention to the mishaps of Beacon Hills. To look at anyone actually.

She looked up at him. “Stiles. I’m from Beacon Hills too.”

Stiles laughed, though it sounded a bit wary. “You’re fucking with me, right?”

Lydia shook her head and began to dig in her purse, taking out her drivers license. “I wish I was.”

As Stiles took her license in his hand, Lydia settled herself on the seat, actually afraid to see what reaction he would make. Looking at their similarities, how the coincidences came together and how out of the whole state, they were both two lost individuals with limited money and no idea as to what to do.

Suddenly, it wasn’t Stiles warm eyes and joyful personality and cute smile that had brought Lydia closer to Stiles. It was their unknown history. The back stories of their lives and how trapped they must of felt being those individuals that tried to hide from everyone else’ views.

“I think we might have met before,” he said, indicating a nervous tone.

“In the library at the school,” Lydia said easily. “You had shorter hair and rarely looked up from the desk. I think I can recall a moment when I checked out a book when the actual librarian was absent and you had to do the book checkout process. Never even looked up once. I don’t think I got offended anyways. It’s not like I really cared.”

“Good,” he said. “Because imagine if you did care and had remembered my face last night! Woo, I would have definetly be in the middle of an autopsy at the moment. I have to be honest here though, you do look like the type who would take revenge quite seriously.”

Lydia smiled. “Those from Beacon Hills are not worth my time.”

Stiles looked from the card to Lydia. His expression unreadable as if he were trying to piece his own things together. 

They both took a moment to say a word.

“Her name was Allison, right? She went missing the summer before senior year. The town went crazy when they found her body in the preserve. You were that girl who was always by her side.”

Lydia didn’t answer.

“I’m sorry to just ask you something like that, but my dad was the sheriff. I snooped around where my nose shouldn't have."

Lydia tried to digest this new information about Stiles and the memory of Allison. It had been almost four years since she was left alone in a place that never quite understood her. A place she didn’t think someone like Stiles Stilinski could have bee.

Lydia shook her head, “I don’t mind talking about it- at least not with you. It’s just tough to know where to start.” Stiles stayed silent, and Lydia sighed, collecting her haunting thoughts. “I guess mainly it has to do with that traitorous place. I think you have an idea, right?”

Stiles nodded.

“Can I explain why?”

“Yeah. Of course. Go ahead.”

Lydia looked at her reflection on the rearview mirror. “Well, I never liked to compare myself to the people in that place. It was so small and everyone expected people to be something so fake. Basically, by the time I was in the fifth grade my parents divorced and the whole town went about it for weeks and I knew that the mothers in school didn’t like their daughters to hang out with me. I never took it quite personally because it wasn’t like it affected me at all. I had my ways and I could tell everyone had a miserable story to tell behind those glassy soulless doll eyes. I guess that my toughness and intelligence- not to brag- led me to the right path. A path that made people not quite understand what exactly was going on with Lydia Martin. A girl with the looks yet with the brains. For some reason, by the time I was in highschool I knew how to manipulate the men and the teachers. Conferences were made. Tests above tests. Eventually I was eligible to graduate before even finishing my first year, but I choose to stay as crazy as that sounds. Whether the adults liked it or not, I stayed for one reason, and that was because I wanted to see these low-lifes interact and gone on about like there was no misery and problems with the world. But then. Then there came Allison…”

Lydia ran her hand through her hair and faced Stiles again. “Are you sure you want to hear all of this? I- I think it’s pretty lame of me.”

Stiles reached over and placed a hand on Lydia's knee. “I’m not going to make you say something you don’t feel ready to say.”

Stiles earnest expression suddenly reminded Lydia of Allison. Surprisingly, it felt right to tell him about it, and she hesitated, looking at his hand before meeting his eyes again, briefly before going on.

“With Allison,” she began. “I didn’t have to pretend. She came from a world that was real and aware that it wasn’t easy. It’s so depressing that her city was only two hours away and yet it seemed like both places were a sea apart. She knew I was not just a pretty face who wanted to world to burn, she knew I was someone who realized what type of world we lived in. I was not up to follow the cycle of life that consisted of graduation, college, a career, then marriage. A cycle of work flow in that small town. As soon as I met her, I knew that we would be unstoppable. We did everything together from shopping to doing our hair. She came from a family of wildlife hunters. Sometimes we would go out in the preserve and her weapon of choice was a bow and arrow. The preserve was our to-go place when something was bothering us. So, you can say that those woods weren’t my favorite place anymore when senior year came by.”

“Beacon Hills is surrounded by the preserve. It must of been so hard on you…”

“You can’t imagine how hard, Stiles. They tell you that it was an accident, and you go through all this time walking alone in those halls for all these months- disbelief, anger, grief, and finally they expect you to accept. I didn’t accept her death and still haven’t. You learn everything you can about yourself once you let someone in- you learn that not everyone is someone you should hate. But I knew that I couldn’t leave Beacon Hills when I could. I could have left the country with my test scores, y'know? And I didn’t.”

“What made you leave now?”

Lydia shrugged, an almost guilty expression on her face. “I suddenly realised that staying where Allison’s presence was felt was not a healthy choice. I was trapped in this madness that didn’t understand me. I was practically a fucken joke in my own head! The storm took everyones attention away from me, and it just triggered it all. You don’t know how free I feel right now.”

She paused again, and he watched her in silence. Stiles seemed neither surprised nor shocked by her past. Nor did his expression registered judgment and Lydia was glad for that. Lydia cleared her throat.

“I got three or four pairs of shirts and some sneakers and two jeans. My mother wasn’t home anyways and I left my phone behind. By this time i’m pretty sure they have realised that I wasn’t just making a quick stop at the library and your father is probably involved by now.”

She glanced up at Stiles, a rueful expression on his face.

“So I guess i’m not the only one who has problems with that ignorant place. I’m glad, even though still a bit shock, that you know where I am coming from.”

When she finished, Stiles stared at her before finally placing his palm over her cheek. “You are a helluva girl, Lydia.”

She smiled down at her packet of gum on her lap, along with the various granola bars she yet had to put in her bag. In the sudden quiet, Lydia fidgeted with her hands. “So… this friend of yours. Was he from Beacon Hills as well?”

Stiles smiled and shook his head. “Yes. But enough of that for now. I just-” he looked up, his thumb stroking the surface of her cheek. “I really want to kiss you again.”

Lydia’s mind immediately leaped to what the feeling of his lips would involve and what it could do to her.

“I don’t know if I should let you,” she said, thinking of an excuse even though her inner will was screaming to let his hands touch her. “You still may be some psychotic killer playing to be the nice guy with the brown eyes.”

“Oh, you don’t have pretend you don’t dig me too. But it’s up to you.”

He began removing his hand, and Lydia didn’t respond right away. She knew Stiles could sense her hesitation.

“Just think about it, okay?”

Stiles places his hands on the ignition and Lydia checked to see the items on her lap- bad idea- because as he turned his wrist to start the engine Lydia ran her hand through her hair, let the gum and the granola bar slide off her lap, and found herself straddling Stiles on his seat.

“Woah… hey,” he said.

She sighed and shook her head, trying so hard to look away from his lips and focus on his eyes, “Oh, i’m gonna regret this so much.”

“Well, just in case you do, just remember that I gave you a choice.”

“Ha. Like if I had much of an actual choice.”

“Uh-huh…”

A soft giggle comes from him, and Lydia couldn’t help but drift the conversation easily to his lips on hers. The sudden end to their conversation and the new rhythm they were creating was something Lydia hadn’t experienced in a while, and she found it unexpectedly soothing. He ran his hands around her waist, becoming familiar with her body while she played with the texture of his hair and his soft moans. She ignored the fact that the pack of gum was forgotten and that maybe it would have been best if this kiss was in a better place other than her car seat.

Before pulling away to catch their breaths, he smiled and gently tugged her bottom lip between with his teeth. It didn’t hurt. Instead it made Lydia hungry for more which made her laugh because this was definitely something she had not expected.

“Unbelievable,” she whispered.

His cheeks were flushed from the sudden heat and his bangs were messier to the point where she could see his actual forehead. She could already picture him with his hair done. Something that would probably drive her over the edge.

“This was definitely a terrible idea,” he inquired knowingly. A grin trying to be hidden. “Whose idea was it? Do we even know the danger that can come with kissing a stranger?”

With a serious expression, she pressed her chin to her chest as she looked down at him. She realised that she hadn't known when the seat had be reclined back. “Don’t toy with me, Stilinski.”

“Oh, yeah. It was mine, of course. I swear i’m going to get myself killed one of these days.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“Maybe it’ll be you doing the honors.”

Lydia winced and didn’t think about it too much. “You know, you might be right.”

 

\---

 

She had trusted him to drive while she took a longer nap this time, hoping that it’ll help her set a fresher appearance to her face while he drove to his so friend’s place. When she woke, she had to blink a couple of time to adjust to the brightness of her surroundings.

It was no longer a barricade of wall and dozens of speeding cars on five lanes that became her highway, it was yellow fields and a two lane road heading north. They were back on Interstate 5.

“Stiles.”

“You snored again.”

“What are you doing? I thought you were going to Scott’s.”

“You know, I don’t think i’ll get used to how cute they sound.”

“Stiles, we are not in L.A anymore!”

“Huh? I didn’t really notice,” Stiles said, drumming his fingertips on the steering wheel before turning to her. A crooked grin present and then he winks.

His window was down and the breeze was playing with his dark hair. His presence was distracting, and not only because she kept thinking about the kiss and what she had said to him. It was obvious that he had planned something to take him switch routes and head back on Interstate 5. His smile was really distracting her away from her confusion and questions. Her position on the seat made her back crack as she settled comfortably. Still, she couldn’t seem to stop glancing his way, to make sure that that silly grin of his was still there.

“Start explaining, Stilinski,” she said. “Or i’ll leave you here.” She though about it, "to die."

Instead of answering, Stiles took her hand and kisses it. Lydia had become terribly confused and liked it.

Stiles turned his attention to the road, and Lydia followed his eyes.

“You’re taking me back, aren’t you?” she asked.

Stiles turned at the sound of her voice and shook his head. “No, i’m taking us where we belong.”

“And where’s that?”

Stiles seemed to find the whole thing extremely humorous and didn’t bother to hide it. Lydia, on the other hand, was gazing at Stiles as if he were on of the seven wonders of the world when she only wanted to be mad and yell and kick him out of her car.

He caught her staring. “I think you’ll know once we get there.”

And there it began. Making sure he had seen her, she rolled her eyes, communicating a mixture of contentment and exasperation. As she glanced at him though, he caught her and lingered just an instant too long before it could have been taken seriously. They stay in silence, listening to one of his rap songs while she pretended to be mad but also keeping her concentration on how Stiles would ever so slightly shoot a glance towards her.

She was radiant in the December South Californian sunlight. Her eyes, the color of jade, would wince at the mystery he was keeping from her. Enjoying whatever game he was playing. She couldn’t believe that in so many years she had never actually ran into him. They were so alike yet so different in their personalities. This knew this was good. She liked good.

Over the next half hour or so she realised that he was pulling into the same rest stop she had found him. The sky was patchy with white clouds and the bigger puddles were not nearly as dried as the little ones. She almost didn’t believe it. She closed her eyes for a long moment, then opened them again.

“We belong in a rest stop?”

“I’m positive that wasn’t your actual question,” he answered. “Try again.”

Curious, she looked at the rest stop. This time there wasn’t forty minivans and fifteen trucks. There was actually five other cars with people either stopping for the nasty restrooms or taking time to stretch before hitting the road again. When he stations himself, it was much closer than where Lydia had stationed herself last night. She looked over at the vending machine, her mind racing to the images of Stiles there. Cold and defenseless.

Why?

Well that was the question of the day, wasn’t it? She had no idea how Stiles could do this to her. Make her wonder and stare and most of all feel cared for in a matter of hours. They had been in her car for less than twelve hours and they had already kissed, seen each other at their worst bummy stages, and argued about how crazy it was of them to trust a stranger.

From the women’s restroom a mother and her seven year old daughter walked out. The girl had dark hair and her mother had a lighter shade of brown. Despite how awful those restrooms where, they didn't look disgusted or slightest bit annoyed. It reminded her of the glassy eyed people from Beacon Hills, with a smile that masked their problems.

But, something came into Lydia’s thoughts as she seen them make it to their car. There was an gray spotted cat in the back and what it seemed like, her father had given her a water bottle. He was caring for her. At seven she still had her father by her side, she can recall those awful images of he and her mother yelling at the top of their given lungs in the high walls of the household. She swore the neighborhood could hear them.

From the corner of her eyes, Lydia saw Stiles looking at her. There was no doubt that he’d seen Lydia look watch that family.

“Stiles, how did you end up here last night?” Lydia asked.

“Lydia, what do you know about Harry Houdini?” he asked back.

His question took her by surprise, but she didn't hesitate to answer. “He was a famous stunt performer in the early nineteen hundreds.” she said.

Stiles shrugged. “Yeah, I guess you can say that. Do you know what he was recognized for? What famous stunt people would pay to mainly see.”

“Disappearing.”

He smiled. “And escaping.”

Lydia hoped she didn’t look as nervous as she felt. She wasn’t sure what he was trying to say, but she wasn’t questioning him. She had already asked the initial question, and maybe this was his way of explaining things. A bit odd, but she knew he wasn’t a typical person. It was something she was actually glad for.

He unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door.

“Here, follow me,” he said. "I gotta show you something."

Obeying him, she did the same. Lydia spotted the family leaving the parking lot, she didn’t keep a gaze on them. Instead, she followed Stiles. He walked passed the restroom buildings and stopped at a patch of grass. The place was fenced with thin wire. She noticed that instead of there being fields and two lane roads going opposite direction, there were only yellow hills with straw grass.

“Hold on,” she said, more serious this time, and he turned towards her. “So you drove all the way back here so I could stare at these hills?”

Stiles laughed. “No. But I was here yesterday doing the same thing around this time of day. I guess standing up and looking away from that road would keep us from going insane.”

She couldn’t help by smile, “You’re seriously one interesting guy.”

He winked at her and continued to walk towards the small fence. Without a word, he reached for her hand and took in his. The feeling was strange to Lydia, a forgotten pleasure, though she didn’t try to pull away.

She took a breath, feeling strange emotions roil up, making her throat constrict with a ragged breath. It became a struggle to maintain a normal composure and it was all because of him.

When he stops, he cleared his throat and looked down at her. There was a golden tone in his eyes due to the sunlight that hit them and Lydia Martin knew she was slowly falling in love if that was what falling in love felt like.

He removed his hand from hers and leaned over, resting his elbows on the railing.

“When I was a kid I was obsessed with Harry Houdini. Instead of my mother reading these classic bedtime stories, she would tell me his stories. All the escapes. What he did and how long it took him to get out of water tanks and chains.”

He glanced briefly at Lydia and then away. She knew that for him, too, was the first time telling someone something like this.

“Did you know that World War I broke out, Houdini threw himself into war to sell war bonds and teach American soldiers how to escape from German handcuffs?” he said, shaking his head with a small laugh. “He became my idol. I guess I can say that he was the reason why I decided to escape too. Why I believed that I could disappear as well just like he did. When my mother died, me and my dad were unable to really correspond with one another. I mean with work and being the hyperractly nine year-old I was, we did go through our stages and i’m glad he didn’t go crazy putting up with me by himself. It was never the same though-without my mother I mean. He attempted the bedtime stories, but it was never the same. I relied in the library for that.”

He looked up at the hill, he wasn’t done. “Have you ever sat in a waiting room?” he asked.

Lydia hesitated, but noded as a response.

“Yeah, so have I. I mean, who hasn’t?” he said, looking down at his hands. Studying them. “The night when my mother died was the longest wait i’ve ever done. There was this huge accident and my father had to correspond to. He didn’t know mom was going to die that day - so I don’t blame him for not waiting there with me for the news… After spending time in the library I realised that here on earth we find ourselves in a waiting room. It’s either waiting for the good news and realize you have been wasting your time to hear that you don’t have a fatal medical condition, or you wait for the bad news to realize that you have your days counted down. Beacon Hills was the waiting room. You are right though. Everyone had these expectations of us while we sat there on these awful blue seats in a classroom. Waiting for these adults to tell us what our fate was. By the time me and Scott had made it to senior year, he was smart enough to leave and apply to a college far enough to escape the wait. I honestly didn’t know what held me back at the time.”

Lydia leans her elbow on the railings too. The hand closest to his reaches out and she takes his in her own. He definitely knew what she had to go through.

He looked up and with her free hand she wiped a tear that had drifted down his cheek. He smiled and sniffed. Stiles looked spent, still defiant, and beautiful.

“I guess I stayed because of my mother. She always thought I would be good at solving these mysteries, these illusions- which is why I would find myself looking at my father’s case files and helping him figure things out in secret. Maybe my fate was to stay in Beacon Hills and become that cop. So, when Scott left after graduation thought: this is what life is. Ridiculous and beyond my understanding because being alone never felt right. Sometimes it felt good, but it never felt right.

I left the year after my first year in community college. Scott would call me up and tell me all these stories about girls and the sun and how the feeling of being free actually felt like. I was being driven there by his words. What actually made me snap was the day I was working as an intern at the station. This man who had to come in for questioning after a shooting downtown and you should have seen the look on his face, Lydia. He was guilty and he knew what his results were going to be after waiting in the station’s four seat waiting room.”

He sighed and turned to Lydia. This time he doesn’t look away.

“Lydia, the only people who are afraid of fear, are those with regrets. I had nothing to regret because I had nothing of my own left. It hurt me to leave my dad because he had already lost mom, but I couldn’t stay there. I packed light, grabed the Jeep and drove down to Scott’s. Fast forward three years later and here I am. I happen to stop at a rest stop for a little bathroom break and I come back to see that my stuff had been stolen.”

“Wait, someone stole your Jeep?”

“And my computer and backpack in the back,” he said.

“Oh my god why haven’t you called the police. Did you call the police?”

He shrugged. “Yeah… my phone was dead by the time that happened.”

Unable to respond, without a word Lydia tried not to laugh. But she failed and he practically suffocated her in a hug.

It wasn’t actually a full on hug. More like a lock hold.

“Hey. Don’t laugh. That’s my Jeep we are talking about.”

Lydia grinned and kicked his shin, making him step away. He cursed a bit and knowingly nods. Acting the innocent. 

Lydia laughing made the nervousness she had built up dispense in that second. “I’m sorry, but who gets their shit stolen in the middle of nowhere?”

“No you,” he said, rubbing his shin. “Obviously you have your car.”

Lydia nodded. “Yep, I still do. By the way,” she said. “What were you doing here anyways?”

He shook his head and stood straight up.

“Ah. So the girl with the questions continues.”

“No really. If you said you were down in L.A with Scott.”

“I was.”

“Then?” she asked curiously as she made her way closer to him.

He met her eyes, drawing out the words as if they were a revelation. “I wanted to be like Houdini. After some period of time on my own making the town react, question, and wait, I think it was time for me to come back from my disappearance and pay a visit. I’m pretty sure he wants to see the act to finally unveil itself.”

She shot him a long glance. “Wait, I thought you were done with that place.”

“I escaped, just like you did. But, It doesn’t mean I can’t come back. I could always escape again, though i’m sure this time it would be much easier.”

“Do you mind if I ask a question?” she said almost tentative.

Stiles chuckled. “Ah…”

By now, she had found herself his his arms around her waist. The sunlight was still on his eyes and there was a slight breeze making his hair move. For some reason she kept remembering how he looked when he was explaining her his story. It moved her to see his backstory and what had caused him to be so different from everyone else but so similar to her. It had made her grasp the feeling of love towards him even more as she got to witness such a simple guy face such unwanted difficulties- it was unnatural for her to find beauty in that. And she learned that she couldn’t let him out of her sight. There was something deeper between them. An unrealistic fate she has never found in someone else.

His chestnut brown hair, made even more golden as the sunlight kept hitting it, seemed to shroud him in mystery. Lydia knew there was more she would like to know about him. See all of the tones of his hair as well.

“What are you going to tell the sheriff when you come back with the missing girl?” She asked.

Stiles looked up, out into the yellow field behind her. “ I can’t think about that right now. If I do, i’m pretty sure i’ll go crazy. I’ll think about that once I am in his driveway.”

She rolled her eyes, and he looked down fast enough to catch a glimpse of it.

Lydia could almost feel Stiles emotions as he reached for her hand. In a daze she took it, allowing him to bring her closer, and before she knew it, she felt his lips against hers, mingling with the warmth of his body. The tenderness of the kiss seemed to last forever until he buried his face in her neck.

“With a kiss, I pass the key,” he whispered.

“What does that mean?”

“It’s how some magicians, maybe even Houdini, got the key to pick the locks for their tricks. The assistants they kissed for their goodluck smooch usually passed the key in the last minute. Sliding it over.”

She closed her eyes, letting him hold her, before finally, reluctantly, pulling back. With a little space between them she goes on her toes and whispered in his ear, “I didn’t get anything.”

“Maybe next time,” he said.

She attempted to skip away from him, and for a moment Stiles froze, until he reacted and squeezed her hand. She listened as he took a breath. Their eyes meet.

Still, she didn’t speak.

Above them, the white clouds were beginning to come together again. The autumn sun was bearing down and the blue day was steadily drifting into an orange time of day as the sun moved to continue its day. She could sense the still air around them, the thick black clouds miles away. Full and heavy with rain and she wasn’t scared of it one bit.

Lydia sighed and pulled Stiles away, towards the direction of her car. She might be fall in loved him one day, and she was sure he might fall in love with her as well. But until then, it was simple as that. For now their silence and surprise silly kisses was enough to keep a smile on their face.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into his ribcage, knowing the the coming storm had nothing to do with them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> \---
> 
> So after many requests, I was thinking that I might do a follow up to Interstate-5  
> should I or???   
> What do you guys thinks.


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